Sunday, November 8, 2009

When my husband grabs our sons amidst shrieks of delight and tackles them with love and outlandish wrestling maneuvers en route to bed my heart wants to jump out of my body and do the happy dance.

He is their hero. I love that they get that. But he was mine first, even if it took me a while to figure that out.

My husband is not tall. He is, however, dark and handsome. But that’s where his resemblance to the Prince Charming of my favorite books and movies ends. It’s not that I expected him to swashbuckle, ride a horse or sport a suit of armor. My Prince Charming expectations were more subtle than that.

And it has taken me years to unravel and escape them.

I expected that a husband would intuitively know what I was thinking without needing to be told. I sulked when he couldn’t figure out what I wanted him to do and then sulked some more when he didn’t understand why I was sulking. I resented his inability to understand my whims. And no matter what his own day was like, I expected he would arrive home when the mood occurred to me just in time to sweep me off my feet with flowers and candlelight.

I did not expect all the extra dirty socks and dishes.

Because I had unwittingly bought what the movies were selling – silver screen romantic perfection wrapped up in the ability to please every unspoken desire in a neat 120 minute package – I was disappointed. I was also blind to the fact that I had reduced my husband to a means for accomplishing my own ends; whether those were candlelight dinners or simply involved a thorough cleaning of the bathroom. Either way, my happily ever after was not going as smoothly as expected.

My wake up call came in the midst of a loud and familiar argument about his failure to understand me when he yelled, “Well if that’s what you wanted me to do, why didn’t you just SAY SO in the first place.”

“Because that’s NOT ROMANTIC!” I yelled back.

And there it was staring me in the face. The choice. To be real or to be movie grade mysterious. The choice to be direct or to manipulate. The choice to come down from my tower, stop feigning distress, and meet him as an equal participant in our story. Or to make us both unhappy.

Slowly, grudgingly, I chose to share. I opened up my stash of secret wishes and spelled them out for him. And under his scrutiny, they did not melt. No, in his hands they became real. Suddenly, he didn’t have to imagine what I was thinking or feeling, what I hoped about our future or wanted him to say to me when I was sad. He had a roadmap. And so he could come to my rescue so much quicker and more efficiently than before.

It embarrassed me at first to be so open and direct. It made me feel vulnerable. But all I lost in the process was some of the weight of my pride – and let’s face it, who can’t stand to lose a few of those pounds. Don’t let the books put one over on you, happily ever after is a heck of a lot of work, particularly when you have kids thrown into the already crazy mix.

But when you do the work you wake up one day and find despite (or perhaps because of) the aches and pains that the man you married has grown into the man who makes your heart want to do the happy dance. He understands you because you worked hard to let him. He cherishes you because you’ve shared how much that matters. He unpacks the dishwasher because he knows it’s your least favorite chore. And right there, that’s what I now recognize as romance. And I discovered that it’s only when you’re not demanding it, that you find it staring you right in the face.

So true, men do need a road map since they all skipped Mind Reading 101 in high school and headed to Taco Bell instead. But it's so nice once they know what you want, in plain English. Because let's face it, there's no such thing as Men's Intuition. :oP

Bless your soul, I NEEDED to read this today! What a delightful way to put it in perspective- I am realizing this first quarter of nursing school just how much my husband can handle...we joke that he is the BEST SAHM!! It's taken me a long time to get that romance is not flowers, candy and warm fuzzy feelings...it's watching him sweat over a hot stove, read his adoring kids stories, rub my aching back without being asked and being present in a very real sense for his family everyday. THANK YOU!

married, mother of two girls: addicted to blogging about her family, friends,and what she's had for breakfast: sucker for a good regency love story: dreams about being a published author and illustrator. blogs at Living the Creative Life

married, mother of two girls: the snarky mama, when she's not chasing children, she is painting clothing or making korker bows: actress, master of creative punishments. blogs at Winklepots and Random Thoughts

married, mother of two, one girl and one boy: an educated, full time working mom who is learning how to juggle a work life and a family life: a self proclaimed "geek" who loves all things science fiction and fantasy. Always on the go, but loves to find time for jewelry making and sewing. blogs at Alygatr's Everywhere

married, mother of two girls: thinks about food more often than she would like to admit: loves cooking, tinkering on her computer, and dabbling in photography: misses the good old days of sleeping in and fitting into certain pairs of jeans. blogs at Perrys' Plate

married, mother of two boys: enjoys naps and using the bathroom without children bothering her, can usually be found lugging around a basket of laundry or with her nose burried in a book: enjoys paper crafting, jewelry making, and pretending that she can sew. blogs at Oh Mandie